


This Will Sustain

by lisswrites



Category: The Borgias
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:17:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisswrites/pseuds/lisswrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Cesare/Lucrezia interaction set during season one</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Will Sustain

The hat was ill-fitting and cumbersome. Superfluous, even. The red felt pressed heavily upon his scalp, each jostling step a reminder of his star-crosssed destiny and the lofty aspirations that were not his own, but his father’s.

A _Cardinal_. He chuckled.

The sound carried, alerting Lucrezia to her brother’s presence. A small smile adorned her face upon hearing the reassuring rumble of Cesare’s amusement; he had always been her favorite. Eyes slightly squinted, she scanned the sun-flooded landscape for a tall, proud silhouette and sighed with contentment as the shadow leisurely approached. She raised her hand in greeting and called his name.

_Atlas he was no longer._

“Ah, I see you’ve received a new wardrobe, dear brother! How thoughtful of father- you were rather sick of purple were you not?”

Warm, dark eyes met her own then, and she found herself captivated by the mischief lurking there. “The papacy is nothing if not generous, my love.” Grinning, he added, “Besides, Lucrezia, they’ve given me a better hat.”

With a celerity he did not know she possessed, Lucrezia darted out of her chair and plucked the cap off his head in mere a moment. A coquettish grin illuminating her face, Lucrezia placed the biretta upon her own platinum crown.

“Lucrezia, he warned, I suggest you return that back its rightful owner!” He lunged across the tiny table, his long arms bridging it easily, his fingers grabbing nothing but the stagnant, Roman air.

Barefoot , Lucrezia danced across the plush grass, looking more much more suited to a life of a nymph than a lady of unparalleled aristocracy. Eyeing her brother warily, she replied; “Is that any way to speak to your eminence, _Cardinal_ Borgia?“

Bemused, his mouth twisted into a wide smile revealing his straight, white teeth and the tattered remnants of his youth. She often dreamed of him like this; imagined him bedecked in the gleaming silver armor of her brother, face adorned with the self-satisfied smile of their father. She never told anyone, preferring to keep this version of Cesare as her own.

A handful of gilded blue fabric in his hands, he pulled his sister towards him with a flick of his wrist. She screeched, half-heartedly, and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. Stifling his own smile, he snagged the biretta and sent it sailing across the yard.

Hands pinned over her head and body trapped underneath the long frame of her brother her pulse quickened- a response to the adrenaline rushing through her veins, surely- and she rested her nose against his own. She closed her eyes then, the usual darkness being painted oscillating sepia tones from the sunlight. And she took in a deep breath, trying to memorize the scent of him combined with the clinging traces of morning dew on the grass around them.

Because she knew what being a Borgia meant- it meant sacrifice and tenacity and the tacit acceptance that one day memories, like this one, would have to be enough to sustain her.


End file.
